Family Blood
by Queen1984
Summary: When life changing information about Mac's personal life comes to light, how will this change his dynamic with his family at the Phoenix Foundation, and his already tense relationship with his father? Will his life be irrevocably changed by these revelations? Can Jack and the team save Mac from himself? Read and find out.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, all! This is my first story I've written, so please have some understanding if there are egregious mistakes or whatnot. I've lurked for years on , AO3, and LiveJournal, but didn't have the courage to write/post a story until I got to college and found myself a lonely freshman. I would love any advice or encouragement, if you have any to offer! Thanks again for giving this a read. I intend this to be a multi-chapter fic, so I'll try to maintain a regular upload schedule, if anyone actually reads this. Additionally, in this story Oversight was revealed to be Mac's Dad as seen in the season two finale, but Macgyver didn't quit. Instead, James decided to return to his secret management position as Oversight and only have a professional relationship with Mac. Mac resents this, and tension exists between the two. Hopefully this is clear, and that I didn't mix up any canon information. Again, thank you, and I hope you have an absolutely wonderful day! Disclaimer: I don't own Macgyver, merely borrowing the characters.

 **Family Blood**

When life changing information about Mac's personal life comes to light, how will this change his dynamic with his family at the Phoenix Foundation, and his already tense relationship with his father? Will his life be irrevocably changed by these revelations? Can Jack and the team save Mac from himself? Read and find out.

"Hey, Mac, you've got three minutes before they breach the holding room!" Riley spoke frantically into her comm, worried for her teammates.

"Thanks Riley, just waiting on _Jack_ here…" Mac anxiously sighed. "C'mon Jack, we need to go!"

Jack fiddled with his gun and swore. "Mac, I am not letting you turn the corner without backup!"

He furiously shook his weapon, as if the force of his swinging would magically fix the malfunctioning gun. "Damn thing won't unjam!"

Mac sighed. Again. "Jack, I'll be perfectly fine," he whispered as he peered around the corner. "The Chinese cannot get their hands on this sensitive financial information! You know what is at stake here, don't you? Besides - I've got this flash grenade."

In his hands was a makeshift strobe-light-esque flash grenade, fashioned from high-intensity light bulbs, wiring, and of course, pieces of Jack's cell phone.

"When in the hell did you make that, kid?" Jack said, temporarily distracted. "Wait a minute… where's my cell phone? Mac!"

Mac sheepishly hung his head. "You turned your head, and I, well.. I saw my opportunity. Don't worry. I'll buy you a new one."

"You'd better, or I'll be keeping the next cell phone in a place where the sun don't shine, if you catch my drift."

Shooting him a disgusted look, Mac capitulated. "Fine. I'll ask next time."

"You will?" Jack sarcastically stated. "You mean to say you'll use your manners? Or did your parents not teach you those, _Angus_?"

The minute those words left his mouth Jack regretted them. Immediately the kid stiffened up, and the light of humor left his eyes, any shared joviality gone. Mac quickly switched right back into a purely mission mindset, his voice becoming serious.

"I'll throw this, blind them temporarily, and while they are distracted, I'll trip the electrical wiring we placed in the ceiling before to knock them unconscious with the shock."

Jack snorted. "You know, Mac, I'm not doubting your insane genius, but how in God's green earth is a mini disco ball going to protect you from actual BULLETS? Have you gone insane, amigo? They'll still be shooting! Imagine the ricochets in the goddamn metal tin of a hallway! And yes, while I am admittedly bad with money -"

"Jack, spending a thousand dollars on _Die Hard_ collectibles is not just being 'bad with money'-"

" _Hang on there,_ that was an investment, and one that _will_ pay off someday -"

"Excuse me, boys, but can we save the marital dispute for when the U.S is not about to be robbed by bumbling Chinese strongmen? This extended mission needs to have a happy ending, or Mac's Daddy Dearest is going to be breathing down our necks! I don't think I need to remind you all how much we _do not_ want that to happen! " Though Matty's critical tone halted the good-natured argument, Jack was glad for the return of a light-hearted normalcy.

Sent to the United States Mint facility in Fort Worth, Texas, the team was tasked with preventing Chinese special agents from stealing important documents regarding the production of U.S currency. The plan _had_ been simple. Fortify and secure the building, trap the Chinese agents, and wait for a Phoenix SWAT team to arrest the culprits.

Flawlessly simple, right?

It wouldn't be a normal mission for the Phoenix Foundation's best team if it actually was.

No, the plan had failed, and now their only hope of not being a national embarrassment rested on the shoulders of Mac's innovation. Mac took a breath, grateful for the shadowed hallway. A light device would be ineffective if used in a fully lit space.

"Alright, on three: one, two…"

"Can we go on four?" Jack interjected. "You know how I feel about odd numbers, man."

Mac rolled his eyes. "Fine. On four: one, two, three, _four_!"

Shouts arose from the Chinese agents as their careful pick-locking of the facility's door security was halted by Mac, stepping around the corner and throwing his now nausea inducing strobe light. Jack expertly swept around Mac and knocked an enemy agent, attempting to crawl for the door, unconscious. Good lord, it was like fending off zombies - grabby fingers and twitching appendages were trying to grab at his legs, unsuccessfully.

"Jack, pull the switch next to you!" shouted Macgyver.

Jack nodded his acknowledgement and reached for the switch in the panel of the wall prearranged to trigger a chain reaction in the ceiling, and drop the electrical apparatus. He shook away another hand wrapped at his ankle. Thanks to their military and Phoenix training, Mac and him had been conditioned to the disorienting effects of strobe lights, and were luckily unaffected. Jack's finger had reached the switch when he heard a low voice among the commotion.

"If you touch that switch I'll blow his brains out."

Jack swung around. A lone Chinese agent had his arm wrapped around Mac's neck and a gun to his head. Apparently, Mac and him weren't the only ones who had received such strobe light conditioning - odd. A more pressing thought, though, was Mac. A deepening bruise decorated Mac's temple, and his eyes held the glimmering disorientation of a head injury.

Shit.

"Alright, man, I'm stepping away - you can let him go." Jack spoke calmly. Inside, he was worried - he didn't like the way Mac's head was lolling.

With a cynical laugh, the Chinese agent cocked the gun in response.

Mac's voice broke the tension. "Jack, don't," he slurred, "the documents…"

Jack ignored him. "Okay, okay, okay, Mr. Chinese Secret Agent Man - just put the gun down, no need to get violent here. You can have the documents, just let my friend here go."

The agent laughed even louder. "You think I want the documents, now? Mr. American Secret Agent Man," he sneered mockingly, "I've got the real prize right in my arms. Who would have guessed I'd find it in Texas?"

Perfect English, Jack thought. Who was this guy, what did he want with Mac?

"The real prize? Brotha, the only prize that my friend here can offer is the ability to disassemble his friends' electronics. Quite rudely, too, I might add. You've got the wrong man."

Matty's voice (with a hint of concern?) filtered in through his ear. "Jack, keep him talking. SWAT is three minutes away. Don't let Boy Wonder get shot in the head."

Jack muttered back an affirmation. He was starting to get a headache from the still-flashing light. He had thought that a homecoming trip to Texas would be relaxing….

Fine. He'd stall, despite his instincts to just shoot the bastard through the eyes. Letting out a breath, he said, "I'll bite. What's so special about Mac? Besides his Ken-doll blonde hair."

"It's not what 'so special' about Macgyver, but who he's special to." The fake Jackie Chan tightened his grip on Mac, almost as if he was scared of losing him. "You have no idea how much his pretty little head is worth."

Mac finally peeped up. "I've no idea what you're talking about. I'm not special to anyone"

Jack's heart bled a little at that statement. Fuck Macgyver Sr. and the psychological near-abuse he had inflicted on his son.

"You'll learn soon enough, both of you. Dalton, there's a pretty prize on your head, too," Jackie growled. "Either you both come with me, or like I said, I'll blow Macgyver's brains out. He's still worth millions -"

Jackie Chan hadn't quite finished his sentence when Mac, apparently not as disabled as Jack had thought, thrust his pointy elbow into his captor's stomach. The enemy stumbled back in shock, and Jack took the opportunity to push Mac aside, and proceed to beat the crap out of the now cowering foreigner.

"Nobody -" _Punch_.

"Touches -" _Punch_.

"My friends -" _Punch._

"Without my permission." _Kick._

Jack grabbed the beaten man by the scruff of his shirt and threw him against the wall. "Now, you are going to tell me the truth. _What. Do you want. With Macgyver._ "

"I'll never tell," a bloodied grin met Jack's fury. "And I'll never give you an opportunity to torture the information out of me either." With that, the Chinese agent bit down on a hidden cyanide capsule. Wonderfully convenient. Almost as if an author had written in a plot device for this investigation. Kill the enemy, continue the mystery. This was no fiction novel, though. This was reality. Foaming at the mouth, the inscrutable Chinese agent slid down the wall and convulsed until he was dead. Unseeing eyes stared out at the room.

"Goddamnit!" Jack yelled. He turned to Macgyver, who was leaning against the wall, eyes closed. "You okay, kid?" Panic filled his tone.

"Fine Jack, just a little dizzy." Mac smiled tiredly and patted Jack on the shoulder. "Nothing a little aspirin won't fix."

"Nah man, lets get you checked by some doctors -"

Mac started to protest when a commotion disrupted their burgeoning disagreement. SWAT burst through the door, bypassed the pair and efficiently cuffed the remaining (alive) Chinese agents on the ground. They disarmed the strobe light (read: smashed it to bits), swiftly secured the scene, and called the proper authorities. The captain of the squad turned his attention to Jack.

"Agent Dalton, do we need paramedics? Director Webber alerted us to a possible medical emergency."

"Why, yes, we _do_ need medical attention -" Jack was cut off by Mac.

"Jack, I am fine, let's just go back to the Phoenix -"

Jack crossed his arms, and stood resolutely in front of Mac.

"Angus Macgyver -"

Mac copied his stance, albeit with some worrying wavering.

"Jack Dalton" Mac sarcastically parroted.

Jack merely raised an eyebrow. Mac continued.

"I am _not_ going to medical, no matter what you say…"

 _Three Hours Later (in Phoenix Medical)_

"Well, Mr. Macgyver, I'd say you got off relatively unscathed. Just a minor concussion. Keep these abrasions clean, and don't do anything too strenuous the next couple of days, clear?" the Phoenix doctor instructed Mac.

Mac glowered from the examination table. "Crystal."

"You happy, Jack? Can we go get debriefed now?"

"I'm as happy as Bruce Willis with a gun in a _Die Hard_ movie, Mac. Let's go" Jack helped Mac off the table and wrapped his arm around his shoulders.

"I'm ninety-nine percent sure that my headache is in large part due to your incessant _Die Hard_ references, not the concussion, Jack." Mac grumbled. This day had been a struggle. All he wanted to do was debrief, go home, and sleep for three days.

Jack just chuckled in response. Though the whole interaction with the Chinese agent was still bothering him, he chose to ignore his uncomfortable feelings in lieu of the relief he felt at Mac's nearly clean bill of pair quietly made their way to the war room, where Mac was hoping for a quick debrief. As they drew closer to the central hub of the Phoenix Foundation, they noticed the blinds of the windows were drawn.

"Weird." Jack puzzled. "It's a debrief - why would the windows be closed?"

"Don't know, and don't care, Jack. Let's get this over with." Mac's annoyance at the day usurped any curiosity he might have had.

Opening the door, Jack burst into the war room teeming with energy. "Another mission success Matty! What's my prize…" His voice trailed off when he saw another occupant in the room, standing by a fed-up looking Matty and a perturbed Bozer. Riley was sitting in the corner, slamming her fingers into her laptop.

Jack immediately grew angry. "What's he doing here, Matty? The mission was a success."

"Who's doing what here, Jack?" Mac's voice came from behind him, still from the hallway. "Come on, go in."

Jack turned around and placed his hands on Mac's shoulders. "Maybe you should wait in the hallway a second, bud."

Frustration creased Mac's brow. "No, stop. Just let me in. What's the matter, anyway? Is Elwood Davis here? You know I fully support you knocking some sense into him. Verbally, of course."

With that, Mac shoved past Jack and upon entering the room, saw the man that was the source of so much anger in his life.

"Dad?" Aggravation crept into Mac's voice. "What are you doing here? I was under the impression you were going back to your 'spy on my son but don't actually interact with him' routine." His voice dropped.

"Haven't heard from you since Mexico City."

"Apparently it's slipped your memory that I am still your boss, Angus - and sometimes, a boss needs to speak to his employees." James Macgyver said factually.

Mac snorted. "So when the 'job' requires it, you'll speak to me, but god-forbid you actually ask me about my day. Or want to know more about my life."

Oversight rolled his eyes, patronizingly. "You know that a personal relationship is a danger - I'm just protecting you, son. Think about the greater cause, the welfare of the world. Don't you think that the lives of millions is more important than a father-son relationship? We've had this conversation before, Angus. I know your memory is better than that."

The room grew even quieter at that statement, something that Jack didn't think was possible. Mac stood next to Jack, frozen in the doorway. Resignation crossed his features, and he muttered, "My memory is fine, Dad. I remember the day you left down to the exact detail. I'm sure you do too - there's nothing like orphaning your child, is there?"

Shit. Jack had hoped to avoid this confrontation. Close, but no cigar. He felt deeply angry for his friend. Hell, he had been a better father to Mac than "Mr. Oversight" had.

Bozer, from across the room, stood up in his seat and moved to stand by Mac. Riley followed, and the four of them stood in solidarity facing Matty and Mr. Oversight. In the wake of Nikki's death (and subsequent reappearance), Mac's search for his father, Riley's paternal issues, and a whole slew of other traumatic experiences, the small Phoenix Foundation team had grown into a family. And this family was fiercely protective of each other.

The metaphorical "no man's land" in the room was broken by Matty striding confidently to the center.

"Macgyver, Mr. Oversight is here regarding some information you will want to know. Now, this information is on a top-secret, need-to-know basis only, so what is said today doesn't go beyond this room. Am I making myself heard, Dalton?"

Jack swallowed. "Yes Ma'am."

"Good. Mac, you may want to sit down for this." Her tone grew scarily furious. "The information that Oversight is presenting is directly related to you."

The team hesitantly took a seat. Mac sat on the edge of his chair, and stiffened when his father clapped a hand on his shoulder before walking to the large computer screen.

"Angus, I had hoped to keep this information from you, but this recent completed mission of yours has shown me I am no longer able to do so."

A picture of the Chinese agent who had threatened Mac's life appeared on the screen.

"This man is named Leonard Wang, an Chinese American ex- army defector. While stationed overseas in China, Wang deserted his post and was presumed dead, until two months ago. Two months ago, the intelligence community received information that Wang was selling American secrets to an overseas crime syndicate, the White Ring. In exchange for this information, Wang was offered protection and a job with this highly trained, highly skilled criminal agency."

Riley interrupted. "You know, this rings a bell…. I occasionally check in with some of my old contacts from my hacking days, and apparently this organization is recruiting hackers to engineer some cyber attacks. They had even asked about Artemis37...I didn't even think about it twice - recruitments like these are nearly constant…." Riley shook her head in shame.

"No need to be ashamed, Ms. Davis. However, from this point forward, I'd like any incidents like those to be reported." Oversight responded.

Riley nodded her assent.

"Continuing on, further investigation of this organization revealed a worldwide network of agents, all instigating apparently random acts of criminal activity. Take the mission you just completed - a single man team, breaking into a U.S financial facility. The Chinese intelligence agencies sanctioned no such mission, leading us to believe this was a maverick team commanded by a separate entity."

Bozer shook his head in confusion. "What's the point of all this, then? What does this have anything to do with Mac, or us?"

"I'm getting there, Mr. Bozer. Yesterday afternoon, the identity of the leader of the White Ring was uncovered by the South Korean National Intelligence Agency. This identity has now been verified by multiple sources, and registers with facial recognition software." He indicated to Matty. "Director Webber has additionally personally corroborated this identity with her own contacts in the criminal underworld."

"Please, please, do not tell me that Murdoc is involved," an exasperated Jack said. "A person can only handle so much evil until they explode. I'm surprised that his body hasn't shattered into itty, bitty, tiny pieces of black goo that chemically burn anything that they touch -"

" _Dalton._ " Matty cut Jack off. "Really?"

Oversight cleared his throat. "As I was saying, we have confirmed this identity, and I am prepared to disclose this information to you now."

Moving closer to the screen, he tapped the lower right hand corner. A picture of a woman popped up. Blond hair, blue eyes, middle-aged. Jack looked closer. Those eyes… they reminded him of someone… Mac?

 ** _Smash_**

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the room. All eyes turned to the sound of the disruption. What Jack saw next, he would never forget.

Mac had shot to his feet and the remnants of the glass water he had held lay scattered across the floor. All the color had been leached from his face, and his breathing was erratic. He bumped into the edge of the chair as he frantically tried to move backwards and away from the group sitting down. Already unsteady on his feet, he was starting to shake. Riley, Matty, Bozer and Jack rose to their feet and tried to comfort him, but Mac scooted back and out of touch.

"Mac?" Holding out his hands in a placating manner, Jack approached Mac as if greeting a terrified animal. "What's wrong, bud?"

"Whatever it is, man, we can help," chimed in Bozer, looking incredibly distressed at the state of his best friend.

"No, no, no…. This can't be….she can't be…" Mac muttered under his breath, starting to tailspin. He was starting to hyperventilate when Jack intervened. He rushed forward and grabbed Mac, forcing him to look into his eyes. "Mac. Calm down. What's got you going like this? Who's that woman?" No response. He motioned to Riley, who understood his gesture and brought over a chair. He forced Mac into the seat (damn, the kid was skinny) and put his head between his legs. The normally obstinate Mac was disturbingly pliable under his touch, and that worried Jack.

"Matty, who's that woman?" He practically shouted at the Director of the Phoenix Foundation. From Mac's side, she merely pursed her lips and gave a pointed glare in the direction of Oversight. Riley and Bozer gave Jack equally confused looks.

Oversight stood passively in his place near the screen, not an ounce of concern on his face

Jack strode up to Oversight and got right in his face. "Who the hell is that, _sir_ , that's got my partner having a _panic attack_?"

"Agent Dalton, I'd advise you to take a step back -"

"The _hell_ I will! Look at your son, you heartless bastard!"

"I'm afraid I am unable to answer your question, then, Agent -"

A weak voice, Mac's voice, low and shaky entered the fray.

"That woman… that woman is my mother." Mac, now looking up, looked devastated. He shakily got to his feet and shook off the hands steadying him. Jack met Mac halfway to his father. "Your mom? I thought she was dead."

"So did all of us, Jack." Matty chimed in. "The majority of the intelligence community did."

Mac reached his father. "The majority?...Dad… Dad, did you know about this? Did you know that Mom was alive?"

Macgyver Sr. looked at his son, and seemed to hesitate, before delivering some of the four worst words Mac had ever heard.

"Yes. Yes, I did."

Mac reeled back from his father, as if they words had physically burned him. Without missing a beat, Oversight continued.

"And I can explain."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello, all! Here is the next chapter. I'd like to thank my friend Rose for proofreading my story; she's such a good friend! Hope you enjoy this story, and have a wonderful rest of your week.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own MacGyver or any of the characters.**

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Last Chapter

 _Mac reached his father. "The majority?...Dad… Dad, did you know about this? Did you know that Mom was alive?"_

 _Macgyver Sr. looked at his son, and seemed to hesitate, before delivering some of the four worst words Mac had ever heard._

" _Yes. Yes, I did."_

 _Mac reeled back from his father, as if they words had physically burned him. Without missing a beat, Oversight continued._

" _And I can explain."_

Chapter Two -

Jack caught Mac as he stumbled back in shock. Mac appeared to have shrunk in on himself: shoulders hunched, stance submissively childlike. He steadied himself, and turned away from the group in the room, walking to the corner. Bracing himself against the wall, hand over his brow, Mac appeared to take several deep breaths.

This time, Matty stepped forward in the direction of Mac. "Blondie, this came as a shock to all of us - came as a shock to me. I promise to you we will do _everything_ we can to figure this situation out. The full resources of the Phoenix are at our disposal." She looked over at Oversight. " _Right,_ sir? _Full_ usage of resources?"

Shockingly, Oversight hesitated. He made a move toward Mac, but caught himself halfway, almost as if he was experiencing an emotional dilemma. The room fell into a standstill, everyone not entirely sure what to do. Jack felt as if he was intruding upon Mac's privacy - never had he seen such strong emotions escape his Vulcan-like partner. Riley and Bozer clearly felt the same; Riley played nervously with her hair as Bozer shuffled his feet on the floor. Jack was willing to bet that if they had been in a kitchen instead of the War Room, Bozer would have baked a minimum of fifteen cakes by now.

Surprisingly, it was Mac who disturbed the nervous tension. Whipping around, his previously anguished expression was replaced with pure, unbridled anger. Storming across the room, he nearly collided with Jack in his path to his father. Oversight stood aloof, not even moving an inch when Mac approached him nose-to-nose.

"You _fucking bastard,_ " Mac began, his harsh language uncharacteristic of his personality. "Out of all the meddling you done in my life, out of all the pain you've put me through, out of all the -" he paused, and wrath dripped from his next sentence "- _sociopathic_ manipulation you've done to me, this is the.. the... absolute worst." He let out an emotional breath. "Just...just.. tell me."

"Why?"

With that word hanging in the air, Mac stepped back. The anger seemed to leave his body just as air would leave a balloon, and he dropped into a chair. His team broke from their frozen positions and placed themselves around Mac. Oversight exhaled and finally sat, situated directly across from his estranged son.

He nodded in resignation as Matty spoke again, "Sir, I think _now_ would be the optimal time to give us the full story here."

"I agree, Director Webber." He leaned back in his chair, arms folded. "Angus, what I'm about to tell you I've kept secret in order to protect you, do you understand?"

Mac scoffed. "That's all you've been telling me, Dad. Don't start the caring father routine now, though. I'd say you're about fifteen years too late for that."

With that, Oversight straightened from his relaxed position. The glimmer of concern from his face fell away and his regularly cold, calculated mask assumed its position. All pretense of personal consideration fell from his body language, and his next words were said emotionlessly.

"I can't take back the past, Angus. All I can do is look toward the future, but our future is uncertain if you don't understand the full story behind your - behind _our_ \- past."

Mac merely scowled at him. Bozer couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. "For Christ's sake, man, just tell us already! Enough with the secret spy shit!"

Without further ceremony, Oversight began speaking. "Angus, your mother and I met in 1985, when we were both assigned to the same CIA team."

 _1985, Langley, Virginia, CIA Headquarters._

 _Agent James Macgyver entered the briefing room and surveyed his surroundings. Plain furniture, drab carpets, dull walls. Typical government building interior design: no fuss, no nonsense. Having just returned from a mission overseas in Cambodia, James had been looking forward to a well-deserved vacation. However, just as he was settling down with a cold beer and an episode of "Cheers", his phone had rung. His boss, Deputy Director Carter Dawson, hadn't even bothered with a hello; James had been ordered into the office for an "incredibly urgent, incredibly important" mission. Vacation time be damned - labor laws had no place in the CIA. Either you were all in, or you weren't an agent. So here he was, two A.M, reporting for duty._

 _He took a seat at the end of the small conference table in the room, a strategic location. Sitting at the head of the table was reserved for the presenter, naturally, and your most eager agents would sit at either side of the head. The middle seats were where your tepidly confident agents would sit, agents whom had good skills but little reputation in the intelligence community. Like students in a classroom, they hoped that by sitting in the middle they would show their superiors that they were ambitious and diligent. Then there were the back seats. Sitting back here told a person more about your character than any other detail. Sitting in the back meant that you were cockily convinced of your unofficial authority given to you by experience alone. Sitting in the back made people assume you were an egotistical son of a bitch who felt so entitled, that he didn't need to listen to the mission briefing - he would simply know what to do through the process of intellectual osmosis._

 _James had cultivated his back seat reputation through the years. It was the reputation he needed, and the one he wanted. If everyone thinks you are a pompous asshole, no one will want to know you, or be friends with you. No one will become close enough to you that they can be used as leverage against you. No one will become close enough to you that if they die, it won't hurt you._

 _After a short-lived marriage to the love of his life, Mary, James had personally forbid any more personal relationships. He didn't think he would be strong enough to survive another loss, much less another caused by a car bomb._

 _His morose musings were interrupted by a flurry of activity at the door. Deputy Director Dawson swept into the room, followed by a young African American female agent, one whom James didn't recognize, a fellow senior agent named Warren Compland, and another agent whom James also didn't know, a blond woman who looked to be the same age as him._

" _Ah, Agent Macgyver. Good to see you here early, for a change." The forever serious Dawson acknowledged James. "I happened upon these three in the hallway, all rushing to this meeting - perhaps you can set a good example on timeliness for these three from here on out." Dawson gave a disapproving look to the his subordinates. "Don't make me regret recruiting you for this mission," he all but commanded._

 _Compland merely shrugged in response. "Aw, Dawson, don't be like that, now," he drawled in a western accent. James' age, Compland had seen just as much action, and faced just as much political drama. Idle threats like the one the Deputy Director had just issued were minor in his experience. The young black female agent had the decency to at least look ashamed, nodding her head and taking her seat (near the head) with a quick "yes, sir". The last agent standing, the blonde woman, also looked uncomfortably sheepish, though she merely took her seat without saying anything. She swung her gaze in James' attention, and gave him a cursory once-over._

 _Though she had done nothing to intentionally warrant it, the woman piqued James' attention. Her eyes, a startlingly ocean blue, seemed to bore into his soul, making him feel exposed. For an agent of his caliber, exposure was thing he least desired. He bristled, and turned away to look at the Deputy Director._

 _As everyone settled into their places, Dawson started the briefing. "Alright, listen up, agents. What I am about to brief you on is an optional assignment; it requires deep undercover and a long term commitment. And when I say long term, I am talking years._

 _As you may be aware of, the Puer Circulum criminal organization has become the largest child-trafficking consortium in the western world. Over five hundred thousand missing children cases have been linked to the Puer Circulum. Traditional law enforcement methods have failed at bringing them down, so the U.S government has turned to the CIA to resolve this situation._

 _Each of you will be paired up as a married couple, and infiltrate the organization from within. Membership is only given to married couples, and it is a hard process to achieve membership. Members however, are privy to important information - information that we need to take these guys down. Again, it may take years to fully complete this mission. That's why I chose you all. You are dedicated, good agents, have no family or friends, and most importantly, are single._

 _To put it bluntly, no one will miss you when you disappear."_

 _The room had taken on a contemplative mood. James was certainly considering taking the assignment. He had nothing else to lose._

" _I'm in." His voice echoed in the room. Compland nodded along, "Me too," he said. "Not like I've got anything keepin' me here."_

 _Dawson turned to the female agents. "Agent Nelson, any thoughts?" he asked the African American woman._

 _She sat in silence a minute longer, then spoke. "I became a CIA Agent to serve my country. I don't see any reason why I wouldn't pass on this opportunity. I agree, sir."_

" _Thank you, Agent," Dawson responded. "Agent Jorgensen? You're the last one."_

 _Instead of responding immediately, Jorgensen seemed to be contemplating her decision, uncaring of her impatient supervisor. She twisted her hair and pursed her lips. "What's the pay?" she asked._

 _Dawson frowned. "Your regular salary, plus the normal long-term mission bonus pay. Why would you ask, agent?"_

" _Because I want more. If I complete this mission, I want six months vacation, fully paid," she replied._

 _Rolling his eyes, shaking his head, Dawson puffed out an affirmative grunt. "Fine. But Agent Jorgensen, this is the last time you demand anything from your boss, got it?"_

 _She smiled catlike. "Just consider it my present after our disaster in Baghdad, Carter." All she got in response was a sour look shot back in her direction._

 _James was taken aback. Who was this woman, bartering with a superior officer? James was a courageous man with confidence to spare, but he could never imagine debating his boss in such a manner. If he was thinking honestly, though, it was refreshing to witness, he thought. Field Agents often had to deal with directives from clueless CIA commanding officers whom had never seen a mission firsthand, or experienced a real life shootout. His internal reveling was disrupted by the Dawson continuing his interrupted explanation of the mission:_

" _Okay then, men and women. Now that everyone is on board, let me lay out the plan for you here. As I've said, you are playing happily domesticated married couples, who also happen to enjoy the casual trafficking of human children. Compland and Nelson, congratulations. You've been married for five years, and after a struggle with infertility, are looking to acquire a child in a less than legal manner. Once you've made contact with the Puer Circulum, you'll work your way into the organization to figure out details about the logistics of the trade itself. After this briefing, you'll be meeting with our New Orleans liaison about more details of this assignment._

" _Agent Jorgensen, you'll be Mr. Macgyver's dearly beloved. You two will be assigned to Los Angeles, where we believe the organization's center of operations is located. We've received knowledge of a black market job listing from Puer Circulum for security officers, and you both have the skillset to answer that call. Additionally, full background covers and identities have been created to give you the needed professional reputations as well. Keep in mind that Puer Circulum is not your typical criminal association. They prefer their members to appear as normal, average, office-drone type people, as to not attract attention. This method has been successful for them as they were effectively off of our radar until a few months ago._

 _Is the mission clear, agents?"_

 _James looked at his new partner, Jorgensen. She seemed competent, capable, and yes, she was beautiful._ This mission ought to not be that bad _, he thought._

" _Clear sir. Exceedingly so." James caught Jorgensen's eye, and both smiled at each other._

In present day, Mac interrupted his father. "What's the point of this, Dad? Why are you even telling us this? Why don't you tell me what happened after Mom died, and you walked out?" Impatiently, he threw his hands in the air. "All I get from you is _secrets_ , and then _secrets_ about those _secrets_! Can't I ever get a straight answer?"

Next to him, Bozer nodded his agreement. He had known Mac since they were both kids, and he knew the struggles Mac had been through with his fractured family situation.

Oversight sighed. "You were always an impatient child, Angus. I see nothing has changed. If you'd let me continue, you'll understand soon enough.

"After our pairing, Agent Jorgensen and I adapted to our shared life in Los Angeles together. I learned her name - Camilla."

Mac sat straight, startled. "That's Mom's name… Dad, you aren't telling me…"

"That Agent Camilla Jorgensen, my partner on an undercover CIA operation, is your mother? Yes, Angus, that's what I'm telling you." Oversight sighed. "Though our relationship started off completely professional, something...changed….during the course of the assignment."

 _1989 Los Angeles_

 _Four years had passed since James had sat in the boring CIA briefing room. Dawson hadn't been hyperbolic when he said the mission would be long-term - James and Camilla had been acting as a married couple for so long they had become comfortable in their aliases. They had maintained their own first names, but had adopted a new last name for the both of themselves - Anderson. James and Camilla Anderson lived in Pomona Valley, in a roomy suburban home. They were the picture of domestic bliss. James mowed the lawn, Camilla did the gardening. James grilled with the other neighborhood husbands, while Camilla attended a monthly book club with her girlfriends in the cul-de-sac._

 _However, something set them apart from their cookie-cutter friends. When they got into their fuel efficient, highway tested, crossover vehicle in the mornings, they didn't go to an office._

 _Not a typical office, that is._

 _This particular Monday morning was like any other. James and Camilla held hands as they walked into a warehouse in the blue-collar district of L.A. They waved and smiled at the other employees bustling along. About to enter the door to the central workroom, they were intercepted by their boss, Leroy Jennings - overalls lover and child-trafficker extraordinaire._

" _Hey hey, how's my two favorite security detail members this fine L.A morning? We gotta big shipment comin' in today from Las Vegas. Lots a little girls on board. Really gives a new meaning to precious cargo, eh?" He leered at the pair._

 _James chuckled along, ignoring the slimy pit in his stomach every time he entered the warehouse. "Sure thing, Roy, you know that we've got this covered. No need to worry about any lost merchandise."_

 _Camilla echoed him, "Yeah, Roy, don't worry. I've got the special touch when it comes to little girls anyway."_

 _Roy laughed. "Ha! 'Special touch' - good one, Cammie darlin'. Nah, I know you two are good - you are some'a my best 'em - ploy - ees'," he said, enunciating each syllable. "Seriously, though, you two are good - better than good. The Big Boss wants ta meet ya. Think ya guys might be lookin' at some real career advancement soon."_

 _Camilla replied brightly, "Well, isn't that just fantastic, isn't it James? Finally, someone recognizing our talent!" she nudged James, "Right, honey?"_

" _Better than fantastic, sweetie pie!" He sang back to her. To Leroy he responded, "That is quite an opportunity. Thanks, boss. Let us know when we're needed?"_

" _Of course, Jamie-boy. I'll let you get on with your day now. The security plan needs ta be figured out for the Menendez caravan to Mexico, why don't ya help out Tim with that."_

" _Sure thing. Thanks again, Leroy." James answered. Leroy waved a goodbye and walked away, and the pair moved in the opposite direction towards their assigned workspaces._

" _What a slimeball," Camille muttered under her breath. "Every time I talk to him I want to take a scalding hot shower."_

 _James snickered in response. "Afraid that's not going to be possible with the water restrictions, Camille. This drought is killing California right now. Maybe a lukewarm shower?"_

" _Oh, shut up, James," Camille punched James' shoulder. "I need something to look forward to."_

 _Their lighthearted exchange was quickly dampened as they made their way into the cargo hold area of the warehouse. Cages held young children, ranging from ages of three to thirteen. All were dirty, barely clothed, and given only the bare necessities for survival. With the dozens of children scared into submission, the large room was quiet and held a tense atmosphere of fear._

" _God, James. What sort of mentally sick does one have to be in order to be okay with this?" Camille whispered. "We've been doing this for a four years now and I don't think I'll ever get used to it."_

 _James shook his head. "Don't forget, Camille, we are those people right now. Don't lose sight of the mission. Think long-term, when we get these monsters."_

 _All of a sudden, without warning, Camille whipped around. "The mission! The mission!" she lowly shrieked. "That's what my entire life has been - a mission! What if I want something more than just government sanctioned lying and deceit? What if I want to be… be… something else?"_

 _James tried to hush her. "Camille! Calm down - now isn't the time for this...outburst! Wait until -" he was cut off by Camille._

" _I'm pregnant." She said, almost sadly._

 _All James could do was gape in shock._

Present day, Phoenix Foundation

"So that's all I was, anyway - a mistake," Mac deduced. "Neither of you wanted me, right? I was only an inconvenience in the undercover mission. Explains a lot, honestly."

"No, Angus. You may been a mistake, yes, but that didn't mean...I... didn't want you. Your mother seemed overjoyed at having a child, even when we were undercover. We had never intended on becoming….intimate… but when you are pretending to be in love for so long, it begins to feel real. It was truly only a matter of time before something like a pregnancy would have happened. It was a sure inevitability.

"It's what happened after you were born, after you had turned five years old, that I truly regret. It's what I didn't realize sooner, that I regret."

 _1995 Los Angeles_

" _Momma! Momma! Look!" Five year old Angus Macgyver held up his drawing of a lever and pulley. "I copied Dad's drawing!"_

 _Camille Macgyver, no longer Anderson, held the picture and proudly gazed upon her son's work._

" _Absolutely amazing, honey!" Camille cooed. Her pregnancy with Angus had been a total surprise, but one she would cherish forever. Before she gave birth, her and James had finished the undercover assignment with a successful takedown of Puer Circulum. Surprisingly, they hadn't had to do much. Agents Compland and Nelson had ended up doing most of the work - turns out, New Orleans was where the financial information for the criminal organization was held. Once they were able to legally investigate the group for financial fraud, the CIA was able to conduct a full-blown, official investigation into the child-trafficking operations._

 _Shortly after the mission was complete, James and Camille had solidified their casual relationship. They had a baby on the way, after all. Both of them had become close during their time undercover, and by fully recognizing their attraction to each other, their merely physical relationship blossomed into a dynamic bond. In a whirlwind engagement, they were married one week before their son, Angus Christopher, was born. However, unbeknownst to her, James had been wary of becoming too attached to his new wife and child. He had experienced many devastating personal losses in his life, and was concerned that he would someday count his newfound family among them._

 _He tried to distance himself from Camille, at first, but was soon swayed by her addictive personality. My god, she was the most fascinating individual he had ever met. Her laugh was infectious; she lit up every room she walked into. People were drawn to her bubbly, over the top persona, like moths to a porch light. Her advice was always perfect. She cared deeply about each person she met. James could hardly believe that a woman like her could ever love him._

 _And Angus. James could hardly believe that he had a son, a child of his own. He thought he'd never have a family, never even have a close friend. Now, he had it all. Him and Angus were very close - Angus doted on him. Camille made fun of their relationship, saying all she had created those nine months of pregnancy was a mini-James. And while Angus had James' smarts and innate mechanical abilities, he looked exactly like his mother. Blond hair, blue eyes, the same dimpled smile. After a while, James had forgotten his original fears about having a family._

 _So, five years later, they were truly living in domestic bliss. James and her were still working with the CIA, but no longer as field agents. Instead, both had taken safer and stabler administrative jobs at the Los Angeles base of operations. They worked nine-to-five jobs, and enjoyed watching Angus play T-Ball on weekends. They shopped at local supermarkets, participated in neighborhood activities, and reveled in the freedom of being able to live as themselves, not as false identities._

 _James shouldn't have been surprised then, when everything collapsed under him. His new life was too good to be true, anyways._

 _James, Camille, and Angus were driving back home from Angus' favorite place, the local science museum. Angus was thrilled at seeing the new dinosaur exhibit, and James and Camille listened contently to his ramblings from the back seat. Angus was babbling about his favorite dinosaur, the velociraptor. James looked over at Camille from the driver's seat, and smiled. She returned his smile, the image of happy contentedness. Quickly, though, her expression turned to one of fear, her gaze reaching over his left shoulder._

" _James! Look out!" she screamed. Angus stopped talking, confused by the sudden change in his mother._

 _James turned to his left. A car, illegally sweeping lanes, was headed for their direction. James honked, and swerved to avoid the incoming car. Forced to the shoulder of the road, their small sedan was driven right into the ditch, and flipped twice before rolling to a stop, right side up._

 _The occupants of the car were silent, still. Angus had stopped making noise completely, not even emitting sounds of distress. Camille sat limp in her seat._

 _The silence was disturbing._

 _James groaned as he came to, having briefly lost consciousness. He startled awake, instantly concerned for his wife and son._

 _He looked in the backseat. Angus sat securely in his car seat, but his face was littered with small, bleeding cuts from the broken glass of the car windows. He was unconscious. A large rock lay on the floor of the car, having probably rattled around the inside of the vehicle during the crash. It had likely hit the small boy in the head hard enough to knock him out._

 _James turned his attention to the passenger seat, where Camille was…_

 _Gone? Expecting to see her sitting next to him, all James saw was an empty seat. The windshield was mostly intact, but there was no gaping hole where a body could have been thrown from the car. It was as if Camille had simply unbuckled her seat belt and gotten out of the car._

 _His frantic thoughts were interrupted by sudden wailing from the backseat. Angus had woken up._

" _Angus, son, it's going to be okay. Don't move - Angus! Stop moving, bud, everything's going to be okay.."_

 _He tried to shift in his seat but his legs were pinned by the console. Grunting, he swore. Where the hell did Camille go? Was she alive? He couldn't concentrate with Angus screaming from the backseat, crying for his mother._

" _Angus, bud, I'm doing all I can right now, I need you to calm down. I know it hurts, little man…"_

" _James." A soft voice came from his left, interrupting him. Angus stopped crying. Standing there was Camille, with the driver from the car that had run them off the road, and four heavily armed men dressed in black._

" _Camille! What the hell! Are you okay?" he shouted at her. "Don't touch her, you sons-of-bitches! Stay away from her, you hear me!?" he yelled next at the strange men surrounding his wife._

" _Camille, baby, what's going on? Thank god you are alright! Call 911, okay? Get away from these men, Angus needs a doctor!" He paused, his words not seeming to garner a response. "Why...why aren't you doing anything?"_

" _James," Camille purred. "You'll get help, I promise. I wouldn't allow potential like Angus to be wasted, after all. And he needs someone to care for that genius, so you'll be saved too. Don't worry. My men will take care of the details."_

 _James blinked blurrily. "Your...your men? What's going on Camille?" Is this the concussion messing with my head? He thought._

" _That's right, James. My men. You see, this whole...romantic life of ours….was merely an undercover assignment for me, from my true handlers. I've been deep undercover within the CIA for the past fifteen years, quietly gathering U.S secrets to give to my organization."_

" _But what about Puer Circulum? That undercover assignment… our lives now, in Los Angeles. What about Angus?" James was dumbfounded. Camille, a criminal spy? No, there was no way, was there?_

 _As if reading his thoughts, Camille laughed. "Yes, James, this is really happening. Yes, I am a double agent, yes, I double crossed you, yes, yes, yes, yes to all of your questions!"_

" _Here's the thing, my sweet," she leaned against the car, "you have to realize - this is nothing personal. I just needed you for information! That's all! Angus was a complete mistake - but one I'll be taking advantage of in the future. My superiors notified me that I was needed back at home operations about two weeks ago. This little car crash was completely engineered by me, and my friend Felix standing behind me." She gave a little wave at one of the angry looking men in black._

" _Hi, Felix!" she chirped, blowing a kiss. "Thanks again, darling!"_

 _Felix only raised an eyebrow in response._

" _Was our whole marriage, our whole life together a lie, then? You can't be that good of an actress, Camille. Some of his had to be real!" James was becoming angry. Angry at himself, angry at Camille._

" _Well, sure, sweet-cheeks!" Camille smiled. "I deserve an Oscar for that performance, wouldn't you say? And a years-long performance, at that. Childbirth, though, that was no acting. That was actually incredibly painful. No one can fake that."_

 _James was beginning to feel the pull of sleep take him. He mumbled, "What about Angus? What am I supposed to tell him? What about our friends, and our neighbors? What about all the people that know you, Camille?"_

 _Camille laughed again. "All figured out! I'm dead, James. I didn't survive this car crash. You will hold a funeral for me. All the arrangements have already been made, I've seen to it. Even down to the body in the casket. Hint: it's not me," she stage whispered. "As for Angus… I'll be back for him. Someday. Like I said, he's too valuable to me."_

" _I'll tell the CIA, the FBI, the DOJ, everybody, who you are, Camille. You won't get away with this._ I _won't let you get away with this." James hoarsely shouted._

" _Oh, I think you will James. If you don't, I'll kill Angus. Don't think I won't, James," she said at his aghast expression. "'But he's your son, Camille! You can't kill him!'" she mocked. "Yes, he's my son, but my reputation and my work is more important than him. While he may be valuable, sacrificing him is a negligible loss compared to what would happen if my true identity was revealed. I'll do anything, James, to keep you quiet. I'll take everything from you. Everything."_

 _The pain in James' legs was becoming overwhelming, but his emotional anguish was worse. This was his worst nightmare._

 _With those words, Camille turned and started to saunter away. Looking back over her shoulder, she called out._

" _Goodbye, James." she sang. Suddenly stopping, she spoke again._

" _By the way, my name isn't Camille. I just picked that name because I'm a fan of Camille Cosby. Really admire her dedication to her husband, don't you?" she smirked._

" _The name's Carmen. Have a good life, James."_

 _She walked away for good this time, with her men in tail. Angus started to cry again, having seen his mother leave him._

 _James was left alone, surrounded by the pieces of his broken car and his broken life._

 _He made a vow, then and there. He would protect his son at all costs. No matter what it took._

Present Day

The room sat in awed silence. Having finished his story, Oversight was motionless, looking uncomfortable at having exposed his tumultuous backstory. He shifted awkwardly in his chair before continuing.

"After that day, I did what she told me. I told everyone that she was dead, even my bosses at the CIA. Whoever she worked for was talented - there was no trace of her, anywhere. It truly was like she had died in that car crash. If it weren't for Angus, I would've doubted my own sanity. I would've doubted that my relationship with her had even existed. But everyday, I would look at my son - you, Angus - and be reminded of her betrayal.

I threw myself into my job. I resumed undercover work for the CIA, and began going on all the dangerous missions that I had previously given up. Being around Angus became too difficult for me to bear - he looks exactly like her, for god's sake! When you were ten, Angus," Oversight looked at his son, "I decided to leave. I was doing you no good, anyway, and while I am ashamed to say it, being around you was damaging me. I decided that the best thing would be to leave you with your grandfather, and protect you from afar.

I never thought that Camille, rather, Carmen, would resurface. But true to her word, she's back - for you. That's why you needed to know about this. I would've never told you the truth, otherwise."

Mac gaped at his father. "So you're telling me that my mother, who isn't actually dead, is a criminal super spy intent on..what? Killing me?"

"I'm not sure, Angus. That's why I need to protect you. I never revealed her secret. _She_ _made_ herself known to the intelligence community. I had nothing to do with it. This past mission that you just went on alerted me to how dire this situation is. We still don't know truly who she is, and who she works for - to this day. It is an enormous risk to you."

Oversight shook his head. "I'm sorry to do this, Agent Macgyver, but I am pulling you off of the active duty roster."

At this, the entire room erupted.

Matty spoke first, raising her voice above the noises of impassioned disapproval from Jack, Riley, and Bozer.

"Sir, are you really sure that would be the most _prudent_ decision? Macgyver is one of our best agents, and completely capable of keeping himself safe…"

Oversight cut her off. "Oh yes, he's completely capable, not including the incidences when he has been kidnapped by Murdoc, has been held hostage multiple times, has nearly died at least a dozen times, and let us not forget the trampoline accident, shall we? No. My decision is final. Until we know what Carmen wants and what her plan is, I'd like Angus to go into protective custody."

His next words were terse. "For all I know, she's planning an assassination attempt as we speak."

Having heard Oversight argument, Jack lost the angry fury in his eyes at Oversight's abrupt announcement. His body language seemed to concede. Leaning over to Mac, he placed a hand on his quiet and obviously disturbed partner. "Mac, dude, I think your dad might be right here. Nobody wants to see you get hurt, especially me. I'll go to hell and back to figure this out, but I don't want you coming along with me for that ride."

"Furthermore Mac, like it or not, this is an official order - no matter what you think," Matty said, contradicting her earlier words of objection. She too, was concerned for her agent. Initially opposed to losing one of her best agents to reserve duty, it was ultimately better than losing him for good.

All eyes turned to Mac, anxiously eager to hear what he had to say. Bozer had a suspicious feeling he wouldn't be agreeable.

Mac finally spoke in a low, cool tone. "No."

Bozer was right. _Here we go,_ he thought.

Mac, speaking directly to Oversight, ignored his friends' words of advice. "I disagree, sir. I'd like to deal with this issue like any other, like we would deal with any other criminal. I've been in danger before, sir, I'll be in danger again. Just because the criminal this time happens to be my mother, doesn't make the context any different. You can take me off active duty, I'll concede to that, but I'm not leaving my family in danger while I'm living in a plush protective custody house. I won't allow that to happen. I'll quit the Phoenix Foundation before I'll let that happen."

He paused for effect, and in a measure of direct defiance, said, "Are we clear, sir?"

The two men held each other's stare, each stubborn in their opinion. Everyone else held their breath, their heads swinging between Mac and his father as if they were watching a tennis match.

At length, Oversight set his jaw. "Fine, Agent Macgyver. Consider yourself an off-duty agent for now, but if we catch word of any effort to invoke violence upon you, I will take stricter preventions. Are _we clear_ , Agent?"

"Crystal, sir." Mac growled. "Another thing - don't ever call me 'son' again. I don't want anything resembling a personal relationship with you, _sir._ This secret that you've kept from me is more than an embarrassing memory of yours - it's _my entire life_. I can't trust you. I'll never be able to trust you. I don't even want to try."

With that, he stood up and strode toward the door. Everybody watched him walk, and Jack stood up after him. Just before he walked out though, Mac turned around, and Jack could see the misery in his eyes. Without saying another word, the emotionally besieged Mac practically ran out. Jack followed his figure until he was out of sight.

Stunned, Jack was frozen until he snapped to attention, and started to run after his friend. However, a buzzing in his pocket stopped him at the door.

 _From: Mac_

 _Don't follow me, Jack, alright? I just need some time alone right now. I'll call you later._

And as the team watched Mac walk away, they couldn't help but feel he left a part of him behind.

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 **Hope you enjoyed! Stay tuned for Chapter Three: What will happen when Mac disobeys direct orders from Oversight?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello Everyone. I understand it's been awhile, and I have few excuses for that. Not no excuses, just a few. To those of you still interested, I thank you, and hope that you enjoy the next chapter. Queen.**

 _Last Chapter:_

 _Stunned, Jack was frozen until he snapped to attention, and started to run after his friend. However, a buzzing in his pocket stopped him at the door._

 _From: Mac_

 _Don't follow me, Jack, alright? I just need some time alone right now. I'll call you later._

 _And as the team watched Mac walk away, they couldn't help but feel he left a part of him behind._

Chapter 3:

Jack stared at his phone sitting on his coffee table. His leg jittered anxiously. Getting up, he paced his living room floor. It had been three days since the nuclear revelations, and three days since anyone had seen Mac. Mac never called him back, despite texting him he would that dreadful afternoon. Now, Jack was starting to become worried. Riley's efforts to track Mac down electronically were proving to be futile. Mac hadn't reached out to any of his friends, and none of Jack's professional contacts in the L.A area had seen the young agent.

He stood up and angrily shoved his chair. "Damnit!" Running a hand through his short hair, he spread his arms and yelled at the wall. "Well, Mac, what do you expect me to do now, huh? Go crazy while you are M.I.A? Out of all the dumb things you could've done…" his voice trailed as he resumed his frantic pacing, the back-and-forth steps hauntingly familiar.

His phone rang, the beginning notes of Led Zeppelin's "Immigrant Song" breaking the silence. Jack jumped, and raced for his phone, only to be disappointed when he saw Riley's number lighting up his screen.

"Jack! I think I've got a lead," were the first words out of Riley's mouth. Not even allowing Jack to squeeze in a "hello", she continued. "So, Mac is a smart guy - obviously, he turned off the tracking devices on his cell phone and laptop. However, he didn't fully deactivate the location services within his car's Bluetooth devices. There was an system-wide update two months ago that wrote in an command override to the disabling of the tracking system. I was able to hack into the general operations, and work my way into his car's programing."

"Okay, okay, did you get anything then?" Jack asked impatiently.

"Yes, Jack, I was just about to tell you that. He's in Pasadena, California."

Jack frowned. "Pasadena? That's so close - why didn't he say anything? What the hell is he doing there?"

"I don't know, but you can ask him when you see him. Bozer and I are heading to your place now to pick you up and drive there. We've rented a car so that he won't recognize any of ours. We'll be there in fifteen minutes - be ready," Riley responded.

Jack smirked. "I was ready three days ago, Riley. Hurry up."

010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010

Jack stood outside of his apartment building, anxiously tapping his foot. He stared at the sky. A bird sitting on a nearby streetlight stared at him, almost mocking him.

"What're you looking at?" Jack grouched at the bird. The bird cocked his head and chirped. Out of the corner of his eye Jack saw another bird land on the same streetlight, as if responding to the other bird's call. Jack turned around. All around on the neighboring buildings stood identical birds to the initial one he spotted.

They were all staring at him.

Jack started to hear the _The Birds_ theme song in his head. "Man, is Albert Hitchcock going to pop out of the shadows next?" He chuckled nervously. "Geez Mac, you've got me talking to myself and imagin' killer hordes of birds."

He waved his hands at the pigeons. "Shoo, get on now."

They merely turned their heads to the sides and stared at him.

"Good grief," Jack muttered to himself, and prepared himself for any type of attack - gun out, defensive position at the ready.

Riley and Bozer chose that moment to whip around the corner in a nondescript grey crossover vehicle, likely acquisitioned from the Phoenix fleet of cars. Moving fast enough to leave tire skids on the road, Riley swung the car around and stopped perfectly in front of Jack's feet. She rolled down the window and smirked out at Jack.

"Good morning, Jack. Can we help you with anything?" She looked pointedly at the birds up on the ledge. Bozer laughed. "Surprised you haven't started shooting yet, Jack. Man, those birds are creepy."

Jack rolled his eyes as he slid in the backseat. "Glad to hear I'm not the only one who saw those little…." The blaring car horn interrupted Jack's sentence.

"Language, Jack," Riley snickered.

Jack harrumphed. "Can we just get going? My legs are getting antsy just sitting here."

Bozer and Riley turned serious. Both of their heads snapped forward, Riley concentrating on the road and Bozer on the laptop in his hands. Bozer logged into the computer system, and spoke.

"So, basically, my girl Riley here tapped into all the CCTV cameras in Pasadena, and factored in facial recognition software to try to capture Mac's face." Bozer paused and turned around to look at Jack, anticipation in his face.

"And?" Jack said impatiently. "Continue?"

"Sorry, I was just trying to add a little dramatic effect," Bozer muttered. "I can see how well _that_ worked…"

" _Bozer_ ," Jack interjected. "Get on with it."

Riley started speaking the moment Bozer opened his mouth, effectively silencing any retort. Bozer slouched in his seat and pouted. "So, Jack, we got a hit. Cameras near the Old Pasadena District recorded Mac walking into a diner called Sal's Diner twenty minutes ago. It's a twenty minute drive to Pasadena, so we've got to go now to get there before he leaves." Jack felt a rise of expectation in his chest, and he began to tap his legs.

'Well, then, what are we going so slow for?"

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Mac sat alone in Sal's Diner, slowly sipping a cup of coffee. He scanned his surroundings. The cheery hole-in-the-wall restaurant was playing 50's pop music, reminding Mac of his grandfather. When he was little, his grandpa always tuned into his favorite oldies radio station when he worked around the house, humming along and encouraging Mac to join in. The coffee Mac was nursing wasn't as good as his grandfather's brew though - it was a little too bitter for Mac's tastes. Along with the coffee, the decor also grated on Mac's nerves. Encased in an explosion of red and white, the diner's normally pleasing environment worsened Mac's pounding headache. _Sleep and actual food would help that headache,_ his responsible inner voice scolded him. _I know, I know,_ he argued with himself.

Mac knew he didn't deal with stress well. After Nikki "died", it required the collective efforts of Jack, Thornton, and Bozer to drag him out of his funk, forcing him to eat and rest. They took away anything he could tinker with in the house, even his paperclips. Mac knew that he preferred to distract himself rather than deal with his problems, and so did his friends. If Jack was here right now, Mac would be the audience of one hell of a lecture from his overprotective friend.

The more Mac sat, the more he thought. Sal's Diner probably wasn't the best place to have gone; the atmosphere was bringing back memories of all the things in his past he loved. The waitress' mothering looks and gentle touches was a stinging reminder of his own mother - apparently an international criminal. The family sitting nearby, laughing over pancakes was a painful insult to his own family's messed-up situation. More than that, the food itself was nowhere as near as tasty as Bozer's mother's food either.

And the more Mac sat, the more guilty he became. He really shouldn't have bailed out on Jack and the rest of his friends. It was irresponsible, knowing how worried they all would be about him. He knew they would give him space, but this was probably the wrong way to have gone about it. Tightening his fingers around the mug, he gulped down the last few dregs of his cold coffee, grimacing as the remaining grounds slithered down his throat. He tossed a few dollar bills down on the table, and waved at the eternally smiling waitress as he strode out the door.

Turning the corner to the parking lot, he fumbled through his pockets for the keys to his car. He had disabled the GPS tracking; he knew that the GPS would be the first place Riley would look to find him.

His keys flipped out of his pocket and through his fingers, along with other receipts and items Mac had carelessly shoved into his pockets. Leaning down, he grumbled.

"Of course...where's all my change?... I know I have more than four quarters…" On his hands and knees, Mac scanned the ground looking for his fourth quarter when a pair of work boots interrupted his hunt. The voice of the person attached to the boots coughed and began in a low, annoyed tone.

"Searching for this?"

Looking up, Mac saw the peeved face of Jack blocking the sun, and holding out his missing quarter. He got to his feet, and when Jack said nothing, he was instantly flooded with guilt. Jack crossed his arms and spread his feet - Mac wasn't getting past him.

Mac stared at his friend, and sheepishly hung his head. Peering up at Jack, all he saw was a raised eyebrow. Clearly, Jack was going to wait for Mac to explain himself.

Mac relented.

"Look Jack, I'm really sorry, man. I just got so caught up with thinking about my mom, and my dad, and I thought about texting you, but then I remembered that you would make me talk about it, and I really don't want to talk about it right now, like I _really_ don't want to, I just wanted some alone time, and seriously, I'm sorry _andIreallydidn'twanttomakeyouworry_..."

Mac was interrupted by Jack putting his hand over his lips. "Mac, buddy, I get it. Yeah, I'm not happy you ran off without tellin' me, or any of us, but I'm just happy you're safe dude." With that, Jack pulled Mac into a giant bear hug. Mac grabbed Jack back. After days of wallowing alone, it felt good to talk to someone familiar. "Thanks Jack," Mac murmured.

Jack laughed, a release of nervous energy. "You know Mac, just cause I forgave you doesn't mean that Riley will. Or Bozer, for that matter." Mac paled. "They're here?"

Grinning widely, Jack motioned to a grey crossover SUV stopped about a block up the street. "Yeah, right over there. You didn't think that I came by myself, now? Based on the way that Bozer was fuming on the way over here, I think you've got yourself into quite a pot of trouble, my friend." Chuckling, Jack waved his hand. "Well, come on then, get a move on. Don't want to spend all day here."

"How did you even find me?" Mac asked.

"You probably thought you disabled your GPS, but Riley did something with some electronic doodad and whatnot, and was able to locate your general location. And then she tapped into CCTV cameras, did her magic with facial recognition software, and wallah. Here we are, ready to cart you all the way back home." Jack responded.

Shaking his head, Mac started to trudge over to the car. He could see Riley and Bozer fuming, their glares at him practically melting the glass of the front windshield.

"You know Jack, you could just let me stumble into traffic… the bruises from a car collision will probably be better than the ones that Riley will give me." Mac turned his head and looked at Jack with big eyes. Jack just chuckled, "No way Jose. I ain't getting in between you and her."

Both men reached the car and got in. Immediately, Mac received silent glares from both of his friends in the front seat. Raising his hands in surrender, Mac started, "Look, guys…"

In the park across from where the car was stopped, a little old lady feeding birds looked up when she heard shouting. The noise appeared to be coming from a car along the street that was rocking back and forth. Two young people in the driver and passenger seats were shouting and shaking their fingers at whoever was in the back. The old lady chortled and tossed some more bread crumbs on the sidewalk. Birds surrounded her feet.

"Kids these days, I tell you," the old lady said to the birds. "Birds are much better companions, aren't they?" The pigeons simply cocked their heads and warbled.

The car across the street continued to shake.

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 _Back at the Phoenix_

Matty was a patient woman, despite what most people thought about her. She also cared deeply about other people, contrary to popular opinion. Of course, she couldn't act caring, or patient in front of others - it would ruin her persona. People respond to commands - not suggestions. For a person of her stature, any sign of weakness and her abilities would be discounted. Benefits of being a woman _and_ short. So, she was "Matty the Hun": a loud, demanding, and dynamic force of nature. However, underneath her meticulously placed mask, she truly did _care._ She especially cared about her employees. Yes, even the incorrigible Jack Dalton.

But even she had to admit that she had a very special place in her heart for Macgyver. She felt almost like a mama bear when it came to Mac. Subsequently, she was on his case constantly. She didn't want to see him hurt, and when he was, that's when her worst came out. That's when Matty the Hun came out.

Consequently, when Mac didn't answer anyone's calls, texts, or visits for three days, Matty got anxious. And when she got anxious, she got snippy. Everyone at the Phoenix was hoping that Mac would be found just for the sole purpose of shutting Matty up. When Jack called her to inform her that Mac's location had been found, and that the Phoenix's best were on their way to collect him, the entire office had sighed with relief.

Matty found herself now in the War Room, awaiting his arrival. She stood in her customary spot by the wall, arms crossed, face set in its signature scowl. She checked her watch obsessively every few minutes.

She was angry. When she heard the voices of her best team down the hall, she geared herself up for a confrontation. From the sound of it, however, Riley had beat her to the punch.

"I still cannot believe the absolute nerve of you, Mac! In our line of work, dropping off the map like that means two things: dead, or almost dying. What would Jack do if you were dead? Or Bozer? Or me?"

 _Or me_ , Matty thought.

Mac's exasperated voice filtered through to Matty's ears. "I know, Riley. I was reckless. _I kno_ w. I understood you the first time that you lambasted me. And the second time, and the third time."

The group dissolved into squabbles, their voices echoing along the corridor. They rounded the corner, and spilled into the War Room.

All of them looked overtaxed. Matty knew Jack hadn't slept much in the last three days, and it showed. Dark circles under his eyes matched his overgrown beard, and wrinkled shirt. Bozer too - the normally clean shaven special-effects specialist was looking decidedly less dapper than normal. Riley's hair was in a haphazard ponytail, and she looked downright pissed. Mac, on the receiving end of Riley's ire, was his skinny, blond self, looking exhausted and burdened. Mac looked like the titan Atlas - with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He turned away from Riley and toward Matty.

He spread out his arms and strode to the center of the room. "Alright Matty, give it to me. Tell me what I did was wrong, and stupid, and how I should be ashamed of myself."

Jack scoffed from his corner of the room. "Well, it _was_ stupid, Mac. We're gonna call you out on your bullshit, and this little vacation of yours was the stupidest shit you could do."

Riley and Bozer nodded in agreement. Riley looked like she wanted to continue her tirade against Mac, but Bozer placed a cautionary hand on her arm.

It was time for Matty to take control of this situation. She walked up to Mac, putting her hands on her hips.

"Quiet! Everyone! Jack! Riley! Bozer!" The room fell silent.

"Macgyver. This stunt that you pulled was not only irresponsible, but wildly reckless. Your disappearance is not just an inconvenience for yourself, but for the entire Phoenix Foundation. Do you have any idea what an enemy of the state would want with you? Any idea? They wouldn't care about your _personal relationships_ or your _dreams_ or _desires._ They only care about the highly classified information about the United States government that's in your head. That's it. So next time you decide to take an impromptu sabbatical, you _must_ tell someone. You got it, Blondie?"

Mac looked stunned at Matty. "That's it? You're not going to tell me I'm in trouble with Oversight, or that I've lost some privilege that I didn't even have?"

Matty shook her head. "Nope. I think you got enough of a reprimand from your friends here, if I'm correct, Riley?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Riley smirked.

Jack looked mildly disappointed at the scolding Matty had given Mac. He had been hoping that it would be more severe in order to knock some sense into his stubborn friend.

Mac cleared his throat. "Guys, I just wanted to say, _again_ , that I am sorry for leaving and not telling you all. I am...dealing...with a lot of stuff right now, and I guess I just needed to clear my head. Finally, just forgive me?"

Jack peeled himself off the wall and held his hand out to Mac. "I've got your back, dude. I forgive you." Bozer came from behind Jack, and wrapped Mac in a hug. "Me too. Just don't scare me like that again, bro."

The group looked over at Riley. "Miss Davis?" Matty pointedly directed at Riley. Riley glowered for a moment before smiling. "Yeah, I can't stay mad at super spy forever. His hair is too irresistible." She walked over and lightly slapped Mac on the shoulder before hugging him too.

"But seriously, Mac, if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I will… I'll castrate you. You understand me?" Riley chided Mac.

Mac gulped and nodded. "Yes, yep, I got it. Crystal clear."

The room was still until Jack broke the sappiness of the moment. "You know, Mac, you won't believe these birds that I saw when I was coming to carry home your ass…"

Matty smiled. Her team was back together, and Mac was safe. They still had some work to do with Mac, namely with his father. It bothered her to no end that Oversight never tried to reach out to Mac after his life-altering revelations to his son. Oversight had left the country hours after the explosive argument, and had been just as unreachable as his son was in the days after the confrontation. Yet again, Mac had been left to deal with the pieces without his father there to support him. He was an utter bastard, in Matty's opinion. If he didn't return from whatever mission he was on now, the world wouldn't be lacking.

Matty snapped back to attention when she heard coats rustling as the people in the room were preparing to leave. It was a weekend, and technically with no current, pressing mission, the team was off.

"Hey Matty, want to go grabs some beers with us? We are going to head to that new pub across from that strip mall off of the 101, and celebrate Mac's return." Bozer offered to Matty.

Riley chimed in, "You should come, Matty! Loosen up a little!" she smiled.

The hopeful faces of her team implored her to come. Dalton winked at her playfully.

She gave in. "Alright, alright. I'll come along."

Grabbing her coat from her nearby office, she caught up with the group as they headed out of the building, chattering about their upcoming festivities. Now that Mac had been reconciled with everyone, the normal gaiety of the group had returned. They all could use some sleep, but that was sure to come after all the drinking that was in store.

Walking past the receptionist Marcy, they all waved, and pushed open the doors to the sunny outdoors. Living in L.A had its perks, but the blinding afternoon sun was not one of them. Squinting their eyes against the brightness, no one saw the darkened van parked around the corner of the building.

"Jack, come on. I know you can't drink more than two beers in ten minutes. For all the bragging you do, you're a total lightweight," Mac teased Jack.

"I'll have you know back when I was your age, I could drink two pints in ten minutes. No stopping the J-train, not when its chugging…."

Jack was cut off by the sudden squeal of tires. Jack's head swung to the side, and he barely had enough time to shout " _Get down_!" before all hell broke loose.

To Matty, it was all a blur of action.

The previously hidden van burst from its position and skidded in front of the Phoenix team, catching them off guard. Men dressed in black tactical gear burst from the back and immediately surrounded the group.

Bozer grabbed Riley as she screamed in shock. The pair was accosted by men who expertly restrained them and held them back from helping their friends.

"Jack! Help me!" Riley yelled at Jack from her captured position.

Jack shouted to Matty as he defended himself from the physical onslaught, "Call the Phoenix! There's too many of them here!"

Matty pressed the center of her pendant necklace. Hidden inside was a panic button traced to her exact location. Given that they were outside of the building, reinforcements should be to them within seconds.

She jabbed at an attacker, targeting the back of his knees and the soft tissue that she had easy access too. Still, there were too many - Jack was right. She took a hit to her ribs that took her breath away.

" _Give it up_ ," breathed a rough voice in her ear. " _We only want the boy_."

She stopped her struggling in confusion. "What?"

"MAC!" Matty heard a tormented scream from Jack. Kicking at her attackers, she climbed to her feet and saw what Jack was yelling about.

Caught off guard and weakened, Mac was wrestling against the grip of three assailants who had him in a tight hold. His thrashing was growing increasingly feeble though - one of the men held a cloth to Mac's face, and Matty could see his eyelashes bat close. Chloroform. Finally, with one last attempt to break free Mac's body gave up the fight. He slumped to the ground. Along with obvious bruising along his brow, Mac was in no shape to fight against whatever his kidnappers were planning for him.

Jack was locked in a battle of his own and could do nothing to help his friends. He punched, kicked, strangled, and lashed out at the men surrounding him. First, Riley and Bozer, now Mac - and nobody touched those he loved if he could do anything about it. Jack took a hit to the face, and with blood pouring into his eye, unleashed his full fury.

He took down a man with a well-placed round kick to the kidneys, and punched the lights out of another. He was about to stab another when Phoenix forces arrived.

"FREEZE. Hands in the air! Guns on the ground! Release the federal agents, and step away - SLOWLY." Commands were issued to the attackers.

Out of the ten men, Jack and Matty had incapacitated six. The remaining four put down their weapons and surrendered to Phoenix agents.

Free of their assailants, Jack, Riley, and Bozer ran to Mac's side. The young agent laid prone on the hot asphalt, completely unconscious. Running a hand across Mac's torso, Jack checked for injuries. Mac was pretty beat up, bruises and blood decorated his face and clothing.

"Mac? Can you hear me?" Jack called, patting his hand across Mac's cheek.

"He needs medical attention, Jack," worried Riley.

"I know, Riley."

Scanning the scene, Jack saw Matty, disheveled and nursing a few contusions of her own, commanding the agents. The van that the assailants had come in was being emptied and cataloged, men were being taken into custody, and Jack could see the Phoenix medical team running from the building. It was almost like Jack was hallucinating.

An afternoon of relief had quickly soured.

Their fun had turned into a crime scene.

Jack couldn't help but wonder aloud.

"What the hell is going on?"

Chapter End.

 **Thanks for reading.**


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